


An Interlude of Letters

by TimConwaysElephantStory



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: But I mean basically the whole gang at some point or another, More characters as they appear, Multi, Post-Game
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-03-04 20:37:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13372617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimConwaysElephantStory/pseuds/TimConwaysElephantStory
Summary: Correspondence between various Inquisition members post-Trespasser.





	1. Varric and the Inquisitor (August, 9:44 Dragon)

[The letter is written on official stationary of the city of Kirkwall. There are, however, spots of ink dotting the page and a circular stain where a goblet rested on it.]

 

Adaar

Now before you get all red (well, grey - greyer?) I completely understood all those instructions you left us with about being careful with written communication, not letting sensitive information get picked up by Chuckles’s people, etcetera. I know we’re being cautious about elves, but trust me, the guy I sent this with has helping a mage destroy the veil slightly below tongue kissing a shade on his to-do list.

So that’s pleasantries dispensed with.

I’ve been moving gold around between my private funds and the Viscount’s office, and funnelling them into a series of separate accounts which, to cut a long story short, will eventually end up under the name Ellsmore and be completely untraceable. All the details are attached for use at your discretion. Using the city’s coin feels a little off but nothing comes out that doesn’t go back in so while this is all less than legal, Kirkwall isn’t losing out. It’s not a lot so far but will be a decent fund for operations now that all the official stuff has been cut. I wish I could do more but I understand you need to play things close for now.

As for potential agents, I’m afraid the only elves I trust as much as you’d like are a) prominently featured in my bestselling novel, and b) likely to make the worst spies this side of the Anderfels. I did have a thought though that might lead to something but don’t want to speak too soon. Unrelatedly, I gave Sparkler a lead on a possible asset who owes Hawke one - or six. Gotta admit that while all this espionage used to be my preferred method of operation it’s already starting to get tiring. Maybe I got used to being above-board over the last few years. Suppose that’s middle-age for you.

On a personal note, it’s been good to be home. Hawke is the same as always - neck deep in trouble and somehow thriving. Daisy is helping maintain what’s left of the elven community now that she doesn’t have to worry about the big bad Viscount sending her to the gallows. Tiny stayed in the city a few days on his way back from Tantervale and got asked more questions in one evening than I bet he has the rest of his life combined. It was a little tense given our whole history with the Qunari but since they never set foot in the Hanged Man he set himself apart pretty quickly. The crews I set to clearing out the lyrium before the Exalted Council made progress while I was away. Not as much as they have since I got back and started personally overseeing the damn thing, but that’s contractors for you.

Anyway, send something back with my messenger - if only to chew me out for lacking caution -  and give your lady my regards.

\- Varric

 

[A note in reply has been scratched out on a length of parchment. The letters are irregular, as if written by someone unused to personally composing such extended correspondence.]

 

Varric

Give me some credit. I know you know how to be discreet - my warnings were predominantly for certain _friends_ who will remain nameless. We are building a force to combat Solas, but we have to do so brick-by-brick, without shortcuts or carelessness, because we are only going to get one shot at it.

Oh dear, that got serious fast.

Thank you for setting up these accounts for us. I will arrange to send back what you have invested from what remains of the Inquisition’s funds. Josie (who returns your regards, with suitable affection - her words) is very good at managing money, but has no experience at hiding it. I do not know what I would do without her, though. She has a head for organisation that I just cannot match and, with Leliana so absorbed by the Exalted Council, I am sure I would have botched things before they even began were it not for Josephine. Also, for what it might be worth, I think if your Kirkwall knew what you were working to save it and all of Thedas from it would forgive you some small liberties.

I thought asking you for suggestions on prospective spies was a long shot, but there is no point leaving a stone unturned, correct? We are in the delicate position of seeking agents whose loyalties are beyond reproach, but who also have no apparent ties to the former Inquisition or any of its members. This may be an impossible task but we must try. Solas leaves himself vulnerable by recruiting elves in such numbers, and I believe inserting our spies into his ranks is our best way forward.

Dorian has kept me informed in his pursuit of your lead. It has quite some potential and, again, I am in your debt. 

I am glad to hear you are happy and with friends. Say something charming to Hawke for me. You know I have never really been good with words but would like to let her know I still think of her fondly. The Chargers seem to be getting around recently, and I can almost imagine the noise of them all in the Hanged Man though I have never been there - honestly to my mind it is the Herald’s Rest in all but name. 

Fenris has been interesting to have around the last few days. Sera and I have been co-ordinating some Jenny business as of late and the two of them did not particularly hit it off. I know Sera can be difficult but I believe that either your friend is dealing with something or he always communicates in monosyllables? He has been in and out of our Val Royeaux suites at erratic hours and I am not sure I want to know what the reason is behind that.

I will finish here with the promise of further communication through more secure channels if everything works out as intended. If not I will likely see you next when Josie and I travel to Antiva. She says it is high time I was properly introduced to her family. Varric, I am terrified. Give me a band of Crows any day - but even my Josie will have trouble selling a Vashoth lover to her parents and siblings, at least if they are anything like the nobles I know. She says not to worry and I have to trust her but Maker it is trying.

With appreciation, more than I can adequately express by letter,

 - Adaar

 

[There is a postscript crammed into the last inch of the page.]

 

Oi, Varric.  
Tattoo face is the worst.  
Tell him to sort out his shit.  
Our fearless leader is way more worried than she lets on.  
Think she thought too much about the stakes and now she’s frozen.  
We’ve got to step up, you know.  
Got a friend in Kirkwall that might help you get things done if you ask someone small.  
Tell them bees and they’ll understand.

 

[The remaining space is peppered with drawings of bees in various shapes and sizes.]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is all going to be a little disconnected at the present, but hopefully will evolve into a larger story. I hope to cover what's going on with the Warden and Hawke during the same time period in different works within the same universe. Obviously that involves establishing particular versions of these characters. For interests sake, the Warden in this canon was a male Aeducan.


	2. Cullen and Cassandra (Kingsway - Haring, 9:44 Dragon)

[Each paragraph of the letter differs from the others, as if some time passed between their composition. The corners are weathered and bent.]

_Fifth of Kingsway, 9:44 Dragon_

Commander Cullen,

I hope that I find you well. The Exalted Council drags on long past the time I hoped to be away from the capital, but Her Holiness insists on my presence – when not directly then by the absurd decisions she contemplates making on a regular basis. I do not disapprove of ambition, but if it is not tempered by reason then too much often becomes counterproductive.

However, I did not intend to write you simply to complain. The news of your intention to aid former Templars in Fereldan has reached us by way of the Inquisitor. It is more than a noble goal and I wish you success.

In a more selfish vein, however, I would ask a favour. It is my intention to locate as many former Seekers as I am able. There are few viable leads, due in no small part to Corypheus’s corruption of the Templar order. Therefore, I ask only that if news or rumour comes to you of the Seekers that you might send it on to me. It will be some time before I am free to follow up, but any direction as to where to begin looking would be immensely valuable.

I wish you luck on your own quest, my friend, 

\- Cassandra Pentaghast

 

* * *

 

[The lettering here is clean and sharp at the beginning, growing lazier toward the end.]

_Twenty-seventh of Kingsway, 9:44 Dragon_

Cassandra,

Maker, am I glad not to be you right now- a few days of the Council were more than enough for me. Ferelden is refreshingly straightforward. I’m pretty sure we can accomplish more in an hour of shouting at one another than the Orlesians can in months of polite debate. Leliana did politely debate the crown in to granting my land, though, so maybe that’s unfair.

I hope you know that I’d have passed on any information about the Seekers without being asked. It’s not been long enough since Caer Oswin to forget what sort of obstacles you’re up against. I can’t promise there’ll be anything to tell, but you’ll hear it all.

You wouldn’t believe the number of former Templars there are on the streets of Denerim alone. The throne here has always held a more liberal attitude toward mages than elseware, and I think the Order was in decline in Fereldan even before the rebellion. Whether Thedas is improved by its downfall or not, many good men and women have been left out in the cold – literally as well as figuratively. I’ve been meeting with Bann Teagan in an attempt to secure funding for renovating a run-down country home that might make a decent sanctuary. He’s a good man behind all that ire, as is the King, and they see the benefits it would bring to Fereldan to try and help these people.

Varric and Josephine offered coin of their own, as they do, but I would have Fereldan solve its own problems before turning to the Free Marches or Antiva. He asked me how you were, you know, although he tried to pretend he wasn’t. I’ll tell him you’re bored if that suits, or you could just write yourself?

All in all, it feels like there is more potential so far than actual progress. What motivates me is the idea of building something good – something that will last. I get the feeling you might understand that.

There is no selfishness in what you’re asking, Cassandra, I’m pleased to help.

Try to stay awake when the Orlesians get going,

\- Cullen Rutherford (No longer Commander of anything.)

 

* * *

 

[There is a slant to the characters in the letter that suggest a brisker pace of composition. The ink on one side is smudged.] 

_Sixteenth of Harvestmere, 9:44 Dragon_

Former Commander Cullen

Thank you.

It is good that the nobility of your homeland see value in your mission. I must admit I do not have much more faith in the politics of Fereldan than those of Orlais, but perhaps their methods are at least more tolerable. I serve at the pleasure of the Divine, but this is not the life I will choose for myself in the long run.

There are nugs in the Grand Cathedral. I had heard stories but did not see for myself until yesterday. Sometimes there are no words.

The council is retiring for the month surrounding Satinalia, and I will take the time to travel to Western Orlais, where I have heard rumour of a Seeker who left the order many years ago. There is little chance of his being there, and even less that he would want anything to do with me. The circumstances surrounding his departure are not clear, but I do not have the liberty of ignoring leads at this point.

I have thought more than once to write to Varric, but doubt my work with the Seekers or the Divine would be of interest. If he has been asking, however, I will send something soon.

Maker go with you,

\- Cassandra Pentaghast

 

* * *

 

[The once neat lettering is a mess, and the letter itself is on a slip of parchment torn from a larger document.]

_Second of Haring, 9:44 Dragon_

Cassandra, 

I heard yesterday. No one here knows what’s happening or whether she lives. Maker-forsaken Fereldan. Please send an answer with the raven – he’ll return to me at speed.

\- Cullen

 

* * *

 

[The letter is written in a large and clear, with no pretence to style.]

_Eighth of Haring, 9:44 Dragon_

Cullen

She lives. Where the arrow struck appeared more severe to observers than it actually was. Her Holiness maintains she received far worse wounds fighting the blight, and I do not doubt her. Please do not spread the information, however, as it has been agreed that if the conspirators to believe Divine Victoria fights for life they are likely to be more careless, which will make tracking them down easier. She advocates mercy while I am not so inclined.

-  Cassandra

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had to go back and actually add a vague date to the first chapter. This is what happens when you publish in the early hours of the morning, guys.


	3. A Mercenary, Two Mages and the Inquisitor (Haring, 9:44 Dragon)

[The note is rushed but neat.]

_Fourteenth of Haring, 9:44 Dragon_

Inquisitor,

Hope you’re well after what happened with the Exalted Council.

Just thought I should warn you that Pavus let slip to the Chief that you’re in Antiva. We’re headed that way on a job and the big lump got it in his head to pay you a surprise visit. You might want to warn the nobles you’re staying with as I can’t see that a giant Qunari (let alone his entire band of mercenaries) are going to make that great an impression with the prospective family-in-law. Might actually be better to send them off for a day or two if you can swing it. I’m not going to be able to talk him out of visiting.

Lieutenant Cremisius Aclassi

 

* * *

 

[The letter is, perplexingly, written on official stationary of the Viscount of Kirkwall.]

_Twentieth of Haring, 9:44 Dragon_

Dear Inquisitor Adaar,

My name is Bethany Hawke. In the years since you brought my sister safely back from the fade I’ve been hoping to get the opportunity to thank you. I thought it might come during your planned visit to the headquarters of the College of Enchanters, where I’ve spent the last year serving as a Senior Enchanter, but personal affairs have necessitated my return to the Free Marches.

As a mage yourself, I’m sure you understand the terror I felt hearing that my only surviving relative had entered the fade physically. By the time Varric wrote to us you had already returned, but a lifetime of magical study has only made me more aware and more cautious about the dangers inherent in letting a consciousness cross the veil, let alone a body! My sister has always had a knack for getting herself out of trouble, but without you and your friends I’m not sure she would have this time. I am also indebted to Warden Loghain, and wish I could express as much to him as easily as I can you. So, thank you – a thousand times thank you.

I’m also aware that the College is in your debt. Not only did you prevent Corypheus enslaving the rebel mages at Redcliffe (who are now my friends and colleagues), but welcomed them as free allies to your cause. Without the Inquisition and its Inquisitor, the College I know would not exist. I hope that you find whatever you are looking for within our walls, and regret not being there to meet you personally.

Hawke wants me to add her greetings as well, and tell you that she’s heard you’re still armed and dangerous. I told her that’s not funny but she insists.

If ever there is anything you need that is within my power to grant, please don’t hesitate to ask.

Thoroughly in your debt,

Bethany Hawke

 

* * *

 

[Both the stationary with which this letter is written and the penmanship of the author are beautiful.]

_Twenty-Third of Haring, 9:44 Dragon_

Former Inquisitor Adaar,

I was sorry to have missed you over Saturnalia, but hope you enjoyed the festivities.

I admit to disappointment that you have so openly dedicated yourself to limiting what opportunities are available for mages since the Inquisition’s dissolution. All is well when rebels seek options, but you would deny loyalists? How little dedication you have to the cause you believe is so important that you waste time with Josephine in Antiva, condemning my actions from afar instead of helping improve the world for all as once was your goal?

The Circle will form without your support and will do what is necessary to maintain order in Thedas. I once thought at Skyhold that we could have been productive allies, but your intention to make me your adversary is clear. Your disposal of what few friendships remain to you is unwise.

I would like to believe you are still reasonable but have seen too much evidence to the contrary. Divine Victoria sent quite the message in her refusal to meet with the Circle, as did you by attempting to restrict our lyrium supplies. I must therefore formally declare our association over with. Myself and the circle are indifferent to you and your machinations at best, and actively opposed at worst. If people cannot see the danger you pose to them and to Thedas as a whole, then they only tempt another Kirkwall- type disaster.

I finish by leaving you with my regards, Adaar, though only of the coldest variety.

Grand Enchanter Vivienne

Orlesian Circle of Magi

 

[After some time - and with care - every tenth word is underlined by Adaar.]

Former Inquisitor Adaar,

I was sorry to have missed you over Saturnalia, but hope you enjoyed the festivities.

I admit to disappointmenta that you have so openly dedicated yourself to limiting what opportunities are available for mages since the Inquisition’s dissolution. All is well when rebels seek options, but you would deny loyalists? How little dedication you have to the cause you believe is so important that you waste time with Josephine in Antiva, condemning my actions from afar instead of helping improve the world for all as once was your goal?

The Circle will form without your support and will do what is necessary to maintain order in Thedas. I once thought at Skyhold that we could have been productive allies, but your intention to make me your adversary is clear. Your disposal of what few friendships remain to you is unwise.

I would like to believe you are still reasonable but have seen too much evidence to the contrary. Divine Victoria sent quite the message in her refusal to meet with the Circle, as did you by attempting to restrict our lyrium supplies. I must therefore formally declare our association over with. Myself and the circle are indifferent to you and your machinations at best, and actively opposed at worst. If people cannot see the danger you pose to them and to Thedas as a whole, then they only tempt another Kirkwall\- type disaster.

I finish by leaving you with my regards, Adaar, though only of the coldest variety.

Grand Enchanter Vivienne

Orlesian Circle of Magi

 

[The final message is copied onto the bottom of the page.]

I hope you are well. How is Antiva? The Circle is at your disposal. I have sent the lyrium with your people to Kirkwall. Regards, Vivienne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell how much I love Viv? Also I mistakenly wrote Cassus instead of Haring in the last chapter, because Thedosian months are hard.


	4. Magister Olvus and The Worst Author in Thedas (Wintermarch, 9:45 Dragon)

[Even the most emphatic portions of the letter are magnificently penned, though there are certain points where it seems the pen threatened to tear it.]

_Third of Wintermarch, 9:45 Dragon_

To The Worst Author in Thedas,

While I would not have classed myself as a fan of your previous work, there was at least some literary merit to _Hard in Hightown_ and _The Tale of the Champion_. _All_ _This Shit is Weird_ , and specifically the Tevinter mage featured therein, I found particularly tolerable. I’m sure even your _Swords and Shields_ serial has its moments. As such it was with such great disappointment – no, let’s not mince words – it was with abject horror that I set my eyes on the haphazard and frankly offensive collection of vowels and consonants that constitute your newest publication, _The Magister’s Mercenary_.

While the setting was uninspired and the dialogue trite at best, all other faults pale in comparison to the callous caricature that was “Magister Olvus” of Minrathous. Oh, perhaps he _starts_ halfway decent. There was a not-abominable description of his physical characteristics, and a one-liner or two that didn’t quite make this reader want to gouge his own eyes out, but I am sorry to report that things quickly descended from there.

As soon as Olvus encounters the “Dragon’s Breath” mercenary company – and on that point, what self-respecting graduate of a Minrathous Circle is overwhelmed by half a dozen sell-swords? – and more specifically its leader, an obnoxiously brutish Qunari known as The Onyx Dragon, he becomes a simpering simpleton. Never mind that much of the novel is then given over to gratuitous description of the Dragon’s rippling musculature and rugged appeal. I do not believe Olvus has a single thought nor word of dialogue that does not in some way centre around this savage and his “charms”. Barely a sentence of dialogue passes between them and suddenly he has entirely abandoned his plans to escape before he can be ransomed to the vaguely malevolent Tevinter forces that are seeking him. Are we really supposed to believe that a rational man can be rendered so uncaring for his own safety after only a few lingering touches and heated glances?

I have counted them all, and come to a grand total of seven separate occasions on which Olvus has to be rescued by the Dragon and his bumbling band of braindead brontos. It is only in the last chapter, when the Dragon is himself abducted by Ben-Hassrath agents bent on revenge, that Olvus has anything close to an heroic moment, and even that is eclipsed by the presence of the Dragon’s second-in-command who practically has to hand-hold Olvus through the entire rescue. Then we are expected to stomach the notion that it is Olvus who is seeking forgiveness for leaving, when in reality the Dragon should be apologising for _kidnapping him in the first place_. I’m afraid the novel is simply rife with plot holes and deplorably written characters, while simultaneously attempts to present the objectively less sympathetic character as the hero.

The less said about the sex scenes, and the fact that you actually sat down and wrote such filth the better.

I’m afraid you have lost at least one reader after this most recent outing. As my late father once said, “If you have nothing worthwhile to offer, offer nothing at all.” Were it not for the fact that certain _actual_ Tevinter Magisters would likely laugh the inspiration for such a character – no matter how much imagination strays from reality – out of the Imperium, I would be warning you to expect a defamation case to be filed without delay. As it stands I can only send this letter outlining your various missteps and hope that it will inspire a revision of the piece.

With more respect than you deserve,

\- Magister “Olvus” of Qarinus

P.S. The “Dragon” is, as you likely expected, overjoyed with the finished project. He says you have real insight. I am no longer speaking to him.

 

* * *

 

[There is a blot of ink on the letter, as if someone rested their pen on it a while.]

_Nineteenth of Wintermarch, 9:45 Dragon._

Sparkler,

Calm down before you get a hernia.

Just to make one thing clear, I didn’t originally intend for things to get so… explicit. I let a friend look over the first draft last time she was in port and what can I say? The woman has a gift. You can rest easier at night knowing that none of that “heaving” and “throbbing” stuff was me.

It’s gratifying to see to what great detail you can recall the book. I don’t think I could summarise it that well and I wrote the damn thing – well, most of it. Might that be the product of multiple readings? Regardless, I think you’re looking at this all wrong. Olvus is the hero of the story _because_ he’s flawed. He screws up, he learns from his mistakes, he grows. The Dragon is the weaker character of the two because all we really see is him from Olvus’ perspective, fighting ale and drinking bad guys and cutting down trees with bridges. You know, all that tough guy stuff. If my publisher goes for it and I ever have any free time again I’m considering a prequel set in Par Vollen – but it would probably end up less a romance and more a spy thriller.

I think you should be flattered that the book is as popular as it is. It’s far outselling Swords and Shields, but I’m pretty sure the Seeker was the only person who ever enjoyed that one. Ooh, do you think she’s read _The Magister’s Mercenary_? I bet she has.

Anyway, a good author never balks at constructive criticism, so I’m going to keep all of yours in mind when I pen the inevitable smutty sequel. Tell Bull I’m glad he liked it, and that I’ll probably pester him for some firsthand descriptions of Par Vollen someday.

Don’t let the Magisters bite,

\- Varric

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no defence for this chapter, except that it was begging to be written.


	5. Josephine and the Inquisitor (Wintermarch-Guardian, 9:45 Dragon)

[The letter is written on stationary stamped with the Montilyet Family Crest, and the handwriting is precise, but still artful. Only in certain points does it grow rougher.]

_Twentieth of Wintermarch, 9:45 Dragon_

My love,

It’s hard to believe you were here with me only two short weeks ago. I thought about it the day you left and did you realise we’ve not been apart more than a month since we met? I could barely believe it except that the moment I saw your ship’s sails disappear over the horizon I _felt_ it. Is that ridiculous? it feels like it might be ridiculous.

Never mind my absurdity, however. The last of the stains are _finally_ out of the dining room, just in time for Mother and Father’s return. I believe the sojourn to Rialto was exactly what they needed to forget all that… excitement toward the end of your stay. That Yvette has developed a minor infatuation with one of the Chargers is a fun little detail I think we will save until they’ve had a much longer trip. Once they’re settled back in all minutiae of officially taking over as the head of the family will need to be started on. I will relish having everything finialised but before we’ve begun it just seems so daunting. Then there is the fact that I will face it without you and though I understand completely why it has to be this way I just… Everything is easier with you.

I’ve timed this letter so it will reach you before you have left Ostwick, barring unexpected delays. I hope everything that we’re not talking about is progressing well. That is probably the hardest part – not being able to speak about the things I know are happening for and around you. I suppose I have grown accustomed to all of our burdens being halved. Laurent has tried since I’ve been home but simply doesn’t have the head for it, and the others even less so. Perhaps Varric will soon send along one of his friends again like last time, and we can be a little more liberal with what we put in writing?

I suppose, though, that there are some things with which we may be as liberal as we wish. There is the fact that I lay awake at night feeling acutely the empty space you usually fill in our bed. I keep thinking back to the night we arrived in Antiva City, and the thrill of showing you around the home that saw so much of my childhood pass. You were so nervous the whole time, and wore your hair out like it would possibly hide your horns. The whole way there you agonised about whether my family would like you – whether they would be afraid of you – but of course they were as charmed as I assured you they would be. I laced my ankle around yours while we ate and by the end of the meal wanted only to give you a much more thorough tour of the premises – the bedroom in particular. But of course, we had to wait hours for the drinks to stop flowing and everyone to retire. By the time we finally made it you were stumbling up the stairs and your hair was all over the place. You sat on the bed, then I sat in your lap.

What happened next, I will leave to your recollections. Rest assured I have been picturing it and more every night since you left.

I cannot imagine you’ve had the same liberty to indulge in fantasy as I have, given all the things you’re involved in about which we can’t speak freely. Rest assured I will indulge enough for us both while you’re so occupied. I want to believe everything is going to plan and so I will until I hear otherwise. There is no benefit to fretting when we can do nothing, as Leliana was always quick to remind me.

With everything I have. Always.

\- Josephine

 

[The reply looks to have been composed over several sessions, and has a barely discernible air of cheap ale if one is to inhale closely.]

_Seventh of Guardian, 9:45 Dragon_

My Josie,

If I had not been missing you in my life or in my bed – as much as it seems a ridiculous idea – I would definitely be doing so now. I could not have forgotten any of any of our nights in Antiva even if I had wanted to, but reading of them in your hand lent the memories much clarity. I woke up on my first morning in Ostwick feeling your arms around me as real as the thump of my blighted horns on the headboard, but far, far more pleasant.

Without attempting to be as vivid as you are able, I can tell you that as I sat beside you at dinner, I was as captivated as the very first time we met. You were so animated, so joyous, but still your eyes would return to mine at every opportunity. I wanted to slide my hand under the table and into your lap to begin my wicked workings, the rest of the party be damned, but settled for your subtler affections. I drank until I was flushed with it and you, but am blessed with this skin that hides such things so well. If not for the fact that your family would certainly not be so inclined toward me afterward, I would not have had the patience to even leave the dining room before starting on more _personal_ festivities. I had that exact dream on the trip to Ostwick and was left more than a bit frustrated.

While I cannot be as specific as I would like to be, I can at least tell you there is no need to fret about me. Maybe this will be as effective as telling a fish not to swim, but please try not to worry yourself. You will soon have more than enough of your own business to attend without sparing time and energy concerned about what I may or may not be accomplishing.

The city of Ostwick is in no aspect an impressive one, but it is functional from a defensive standpoint. If I were better with words I might be able to describe it to you, but in trying can only come up with comparisons. It is like Kirkwall without the imposing structure, or Tantervale without the scenery. There are still marks from where my people passed through two ages ago, if you know what you are looking for. I am no longer forced to travel as the inquisitor here, but can revert to my mercenary bearing as required. No one likes to look too long at a scowling Qunari, particularly in the Free Marches. It will not be a foolproof disguise, but so far I have avoided scrutiny.

I hope that your parents are over the events of our last few days. They were very nice about it but even I could sense the strain. I have sourced a replacement for that china with the orchids. It is a shame that Yvette was never able to see the Chargers the morning after one of their rowdier nights. I think any romantic notions would be quickly squashed.

It is clear that you worry about this new stage in your life, and believe that if I could be there to support you I would, but know that I do not believe my presence would make any difference to your success. You are one of if not the single most capable person I know, in whatever area you apply that capability. I fear for your safety, always. I wish to be there to hold you at night, always. I do not ever worry that you will fail in any task you apply yourself to.

I will finish now as my last day in the city has come. There is no location I can give you that would not compromise this next stage of my mission. I wish it was not so. As soon as I am able I will write. I promise.

I will come back to you.

A.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow romance is so much harder than literary criticism.


	6. Six Degrees of Inquisition (Guardian, 9:45 Dragon)

[The lettering is messy and disconnected. Its author seems to have had some difficulty writing in straight lines.]

_Eighth of Guardian, 9:45 Dragon_

A long time ago – traipsing, trailing over sand that stings where robes don’t cover – you said I could ask questions. Is that still true? Time changes things here faster than there, so much, so quickly, can’t keep up - _He_ is solid, stable, safe. Sorry, it’s hard to keep the words from wandering, keep them going where I want them to. It doesn’t help when old feelings are familiar like these ones, even from the other side of the world. What I wanted to ask was about helping. When I was less me it was easier – no risk but reward, fulfilling a purpose – now it’s sometimes complicated. If the best way there was to help someone else might make you hurt instead would you do it? Before her – tall and strong, but kind in the quiet places, letting me stay and help when there was no reason – I never knew how to be selfish. If I could help and I don’t what does that mean? Human never meant less or worse but now it’s hard to be sure – so many possibilities. Could leave them all to rot and go back to where things are safe and simple but I won’t. Can but won’t. Pain that isn’t the same but similar, you might understand. It’s easier but also harder, now, to make people understand.

 

* * *

 

[The note appears to have been written, hurriedly, on one of the end pages of a book.]

_Ninth of Guardian, 9:45 Dragon_

Amatus,

Don’t give me that look. I tried to wake you but that Qunari swill you insist on drinking combined with last night’s “activities” was enough to put you out cold. I had a messenger from Minrathous early this morning, and unfortunately the situation couldn’t wait. We will speak later over more secure channels, but _surely_ I don’t have to tell you that if the matter wasn’t of the utmost importance I would not have left without saying goodbye. Indeed, anything less than life or death wouldn’t have made me give up the rest of the week we were supposed to have. I had _plans._ Rest assured, though, that I’ll have to make it up to you thoroughly next time.

I’m sorry, truly.

 

* * *

 

[At a glance the writing seems messy, even careless, but on closer inspection each word is perfectly decipherable.]

_Twenty-Third of Guardian, 9:45 Dragon_

Seeker,

Came by at midday but no one would let me in. Told them we were old friends but they were sceptical that I was who I said I was. I think they might be a little dim.

Anyway, I was after a favour. Short version is that the Chargers were killing time in VR and some noble assholes pick a fight with Grim. Huge mistake. He takes a knife to the shoulder (fine now, not a big deal), so Dalish steps in and the guys get “shot”. Trust me, they deserved it, but the city guard just sees an elf causing trouble and they haul her off. She’s locked up off the markets and we could break her out but it might mean becoming fugitives and/or fleeing Orlais. You see where I’m going with this, right? Has to be some sort of Divine Pardon that can get them to give the whole thing up. I’d owe you guys one or six. We’ll be waiting in the café near the prison. You know, the one with the teeny little dragon head on the wall.

\- The Iron Bull

 

* * *

 

[The draft sits beside a clean sheet of paper, ready for transcription.]

_Twenty-Sixth of Guardian, 9:45 Dragon_

Varric,

~~I apologise for not~~

~~Commander Cullen suggested that~~

I admit to feeling surprised when I realised it had been a year since ~~we last met~~ the formation of the exalted council. Between it and my work with the seekers time has passed more rapidly than I anticipated. Some news of your efforts in Kirkwall has reached ~~me~~ the Council through ~~Lel~~ Her Holiness and the Inquisitor, but I ~~thought I would~~   ~~hoped that~~ felt it appropriate to get the story from the horse’s mouth, as it were.

Val Royeaux was more ~~exciting~~ bearable, when the former Inquisition was in residence. ~~I have made few friends~~ There are good people here, but they have the kind of political minds that I find unpleasant at the best of times. When it was Josephine working to a noble cause I could see the merit but now we seem to be taking such ineffectual action on issues that are less straightforward and the politicking here is becoming aggravating. I imagine you would not like it either ~~, though you would be more accustomed to~~. Are things similar as Viscount? ~~~~

~~I miss~~

~~I was unsure about~~

I read your latest novel. As much as I would rather deny having done so I know that you would not believe me. Knowing all to well ~~who~~ what you were inspired by made reading some of the more descriptive passages difficult ~~\- I may never be able to look Dorian in the eye again~~. I am glad, though, that you are still writing. When the capital grows difficult to bear I retire with ~~your~~ a book and in that way keep myself sane. I can only imagine what troubles there are to escape in Kirkwall.

There is little more for me to say. Corresponding by the written word has never been among my strengths, but ~~I care~~   ~~I like to think~~ you are a friend, and I retain few enough of them not to attempt it. Perhaps it is a sign that I am growing old, but I no longer have the energy to deny that fact. Mock me if you will, dwarf.

~~Write back if~~

I hope you are well.

\- Cassandra ~~Pentaghast~~

 

* * *

 

[The letter arrives in a quaint square envelope, delivered with a pair of parcels.]

_Twenty-Sixth of Guardian, 9:45 Dragon_

Buttercup,

How’s the wife? Yeah, I heard you eloped at Wintermarch and no I’m not telling how. The red package is for Poppy and the yellow one is for you. I figured you’d probably have missed out on registering for gifts given the whole secret wedding thing. Not sure if that’s just eccentricity or you’re keeping it quiet for on purpose but either way I won’t tell anyone until you do. Heck, come to Kirkwall sometime and we’ll put on a real celebration. You think it got rowdy back at the Herald’s Rest but you haven’t seen anything yet.

Good luck to both of you. Really, good luck.

\- Varric

 

* * *

 

[The “letter” is scrawled on the back of a napkin spotted with jam.]

_Thirtieth of Guardian, 9:45 Dragon_

Hey Rainier,  
Figured you’ll be back eventually.  
Left this with a friend.  
WHO BEST NOT HAVE LOST IT  
Wanted to remind you to call in if you’re around, which if you’re reading this then you are so there.  
Widdle and me have a place near the college  
For obvious reasons.  
Got a job for you maybe in Val Chev.  
Soldier types, not my bag.  
Also, BIG NEWS.  
Come talk – address is on the back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In other news, writing Cole is surprisingly easy and writing Bull is surprisingly hard. No pun intended.


	7. Missing Persons

_Twentieth of Drakonis, 9:45 Dragon_

[Balls of scrunched up parchment sit abandoned in a corner. No two are quite the same, but all have been angrily thrown.]

* * *

 

J

Please don’t get melodramatic about this. If my agents had any intelligence as to B’s whereabouts, you would have it. I will abide no more attempts to disrupt our day to day operations.

N

 

* * *

 

Sera

That language was completely unnecessary. I have heard nothing from Rainier in six months. He sent a letter to the Inquisitor just after the exalted council that implied he was headed back to the Free Marches. Surely you have more knowledgable contacts there? I would remind you that we are talking about a man who remained at large for nearly a decade before being caught by his own choosing. I understand you are worried, but there is nothing any of us can do at the present moment.

Regards,

Josephine Montilyet

 

* * *

 

Buttercup

I wish I could help, I really do, but I haven’t heard a word. Which isn’t great, but on the other hand if anything terrible had happened _someone_ would have heard something. If you, me and all the resources of Her Nightingaleness don’t know then no one does. Heck, maybe he wants it that way - old habits die hard. I’ll shake a few more trees and see if anything falls out, but it might take a while. There’s some Hawke stuff going on. You know how it is.

\- Varric

 

* * *

 

You didn’t ask even though you thought about it. I understand, you didn’t want to think that you would think of me but you did and that’s okay. I want to help. When I know someone very well it’s easier to hear them from far away - 

Terrifying, torturing, thinking while I try to sleep

wishing I could turn off the voice in my head in case it can hear it but I never can -

I can’t tell you much but I would know if he was gone and he’s not. Does that help? I don’t think it does but I wish it would.

 

* * *

 

Dear Countess von Nuglicker,

The office of the Grand Enchanter thanks you for your letter. Unfortunately we are not presently able to answer your query, but would encourage you to travel to your nearest Circle of Magi for further assistance.

Regards,

Grand Enchanter Vivienne of the White Spire

 

* * *

 

Sera,

Things are good, in case you forgot to ask. We crossed paths with Rainier near Starkhaven a few months after the EC. He took off south, but didn’t say exactly where. You wouldn’t have had to ask me if he’d been to Kirkwall so I’d guess Ostwick or Ferelden. If I were you I’d hope for the former - less ground to cover. Don’t panic though, that guy can take care of himself as well as any of us.

The Iron Bull

P.S. Krem says hi.

 

* * *

 

Whyever would you think _I_ would know? As intelligent and perceptive as I like to believe myself to be, I have nowhere near the reach of any of our mutual acquaintances. The informants I could scrounge together can barely be trusted but that’s another issue entirely. If you’re starting up a search, however, perhaps put my homeland at the bottom of the list? Even people who liked it up here are starting to head South now it looks as if there’ll be war. I suppose technically there was always war. A resumption of open hostilities? Anyway, Rainier was always a bit strange but last we met he didn’t seem stark raving mad, so I doubt he’s anywhere near Tevinter.

Hope you’re well, etc.

Dorian

 

* * *

 

[There is one letter that is still flat, lying on a small writing desk. It is spotted with ink from a broken pen.]

Sera,

Please don’t panic. Rainier passed through here (we’re set up half a day west of South Reach) just a few weeks ago. He was looking for some old friends - at least I assume they were friends - who are living just outside Redcliffe. I’ve sent a messenger in case he’s still there.

It’s much easier to get lost in Ferelden than in Orlais or the Free Marches, and Rainier isn’t looking to draw attention. I understand how easy it is to start worrying when you care about someone, but we can’t be sounding the alarm every time someone drops off the radar. The Inquisition has moved on. 

If the messenger is unsuccessful I will take up the trail myself.

Regards,

\- Cullen Rutherford

 

[There is a scribbled amendment further down the same page.]

I apologise if you sought my help and received no response. I have left the Grand Cathedral for a short time but will return by the month’s end. Of Rainier I have little to say that Commander Cullen has not already.

\- Cassandra Pentaghast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can't stop won't stop. I'm sure there was a point to this once upon a time.


End file.
